


Out

by bittmanns (athenaeums)



Series: Coming Out [3]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Gay Relationship, Closeted Character, Coming Out, Gay Male Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:17:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7906159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenaeums/pseuds/bittmanns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack supposes that there may be a small amount of irony in the fact that it all ends right where it started. At the Haus. Not a soul around, or so he thought. He has to wonder when he got so careless, or was it carefree? He can’t tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out

Jack supposes that there may be a small amount of irony in the fact that it all ends right where it started. At the Haus. Not a soul around, or so he thought. He has to wonder when he got so careless, or was it carefree? He can’t tell.

He thinks about the boy’s pleas afterwards - “ _Please, you don’t understand how much the money would help me!”, “I’m probably doing you a favor, it’s mutually beneficial_ ” - and realises that he was never in control of this situation. If it hadn’t have been for Bittle… he knows he has to stop thinking that he doesn’t deserve him.

He crashes into the realisation that his control purely hinged on whether he was willing to pay off blackmailers, whether he was happy to live a duplicitous life, whether he had come to terms with the majority of his life being squandered away for his career as he waited to start life at retirement. Jack’s control was only ever about the sacrifices he was willing to make or the life he was only half-living. It feels like he’s been checked, a particularly aggressive challenge but for the first time since the days he spent watching “it gets better” videos and shrugging them off, he knows he will be caught before he hits the ice. Bittle won’t let him fall down for this.

He takes up a spot on the bed, next to where Bittle currently has his head in his hands. He refuses to look at Jack, says he feels _guilty_ , refuses to listen when Jack tells him that he has nothing to feel guilty about.

“I should have known someone would come back,” he says, voice muffled into his chest. He pulls his head up from his hands and Jack refrains from ruffling the hair that is now sticking in wild directions all over. “I should have known one of the new kids would be over-eager.”

“Bits...” Jack tries again, but Bittle just continues with the same thing over and over again. _I should have known this would happen._

“Jack, I’m so sorry. I should have thought about it, not been so reckless. Who leaves their door open when they’re with someone anyway? I’m so stupid!” Bittle cries, waving his hands in the air as though this enforces the point he is trying to make. Jack just feels a wave of affection. “I completely understand if you never want to see me ever again.”

Jack rolls his eyes and starts rubbing his hand up and down Bittle’s back, in what he hopes is a comforting manner. He’s surprised by his feelings. He knows he should agree with Bittle, he should have also considered the fact that the door was open and many other factors that have contributed to this end result...

“Bits, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he says instead, calmly, and gently massages the back of Bittle’s neck one-handed. It’s not the fact that he said he is fine that surprises him. It’s the fact that it’s the truth. He realises as he says it with overwhelming clarity that for this moment he feels absolutely fine and his only concern is to stop Bittle from driving himself into a panic attack.

Bittle turns to look at him, bewildered and with watering eyes. “What?” he questions.

“I’m fine,” Jack says, shrugging slightly. “For now, anyway.”

“You’re not breaking up with me?” Bittle asks so curiously, that Jack almost wonders whether he wants him to.

“Didn’t plan on it,” Jack smiles. “But it’s up to you. Are you ready for the attention you’ll get?” And that is when it really hits him. The attention, the media, his teammates, Shitty... all of them. They will all know and they will want to each take a bite from him first and then when they find themselves unsatisfied, they’ll turn to Bittle, his Bitty, the last person who deserves any of it. 

“Don’t you worry about me,” Bittle smiles, grasping Jack’s free hand with his own. He takes a deep breath and blinks away the tears that were threatening to spill. Jack wonders how on earth Bittle could ever ask him not to worry. He doesn’t know what it is to _not_  worry about this boy. “What are you going to do?”

Jack thinks but not for long. He knows what to do. He’s always had an action plan in the back of his mind for moments like this, for a time when he could have been careless, for when he finally met someone that was far too bright to be hidden from the rest of the world. He knows he needs to call his coach, he needs to let his parents know, he needs to tell Shitty and then he needs to lay low, wait until he’s yesterday’s news. “I’m going to fix it,” he says and musters a small smile.

“I don’t have any money to pay him off but he won’t be getting on this team if it’s the last thing I ever do as captain,” Bittle grits his teeth with determination and if the situation were less somber, Jack might have laughed.

“I love you, Bits,” Jack says, standing and leaning over to kiss Bittle’s forehead. He ruffles his hair gently and leaves the room, leaving his boyfriend in a state of mild confusion, gawping into the air. As Jack is closing the front door he hears a frantic “ _Jack! How dare you walk away... Jack!... I love you too!”_ and chuckles to himself.

\---

He drives back to Providence and the nerves he had been denying begin swimming around his stomach, hollowing him and voiding any confidence he thought he had before. What on earth is he doing? Why didn’t he offer a bigger pay check to the stupid boy, one that a newspaper could only dream of offering? He presses his speed dial and waits for the call to connect, every ring hammering in his brain while he waits for his father to answer.

“ _Hello?_ ”

Silence. He can’t speak. How can he disappoint his own father this way?

“ _Jack? Are you okay?_ ”

He sighs and contemplates pulling over. His hands are trembling and he knows what the familiar tightening in his chest means.

“ _Jack... Jack, it’s okay. The boy from Samwell has asked me for money and I’ll pay it, don’t worry about it. I’ll sort it._ ”

Jack huffs out a laugh in amusement. His father would sort _it_. His father would sort Bitty and he would sort out his career. Again. His father would fix it all up for him so he could carry on hiding in the dark.

He’s panicking. His chest is constricting and he’s yanking the seat belt off so he can grasp every bit of air, and yet in his panic it’s never been clearer.

“Don’t pay him,” he orders as he gently rolls to a stop on the side of the road. “I’ll tell Coach and I’ll deal with it.”

He knows the silence on the other end of the line is his father processing what he’s just said and he finds himself suddenly more scared of that outcome than anything else. After what feels like a hundred excruciating minutes, Jack hears his father breathe.

“ _Are you sure?_ ” is all he asks.

Jack swallows. Jack breathes. Jack begins to nod before remembering that he is on the phone.

“Yes,” he answers as clearly as he can.

“ _Bittle is a great kid, Jack. This isn’t like before, this isn’t some short-lived thing?_ ” Jack can’t blame his father for checking. It isn’t just Jack that will get the stick. He knows Bitty will be by his side whether he likes it or not, and he knows his parents will be hounded. _Did they know? Have they always been supportive? What do they think of Eric?_  It’s not a decision he can make flippantly.

“He’s worth it, dad. I know that’s what you’re really asking. He’s more than worth it, but this isn’t for him,” Jack clarifies. Just in case. “This just isn’t working for me anymore.”

After speaking with his father and continuing to Providence, Jack thinks the air feels a little less thin. When he needs to gulp the oxygen down, force it into his lungs so his muscles can stop constricting and his stomach can stop feeling like it’s caving in, it’s easier. His parents were never overly supportive of his sexuality, but they weren’t opposed. He remembers that he has always had it easy in that respect. He pulls over for a gas station when his brain screams at him how ready his father was to just pay away this “problem” and really, how tolerant must he actually be? 

When it all comes down to it and Jack soaks in the scent of gasoline where it has spilled in rivulets and rainbows all around, he knows his father wasn’t paying away his sexuality. His father was saving his career. He sometimes wonders if his future is as important to him as it is to Bob Zimmermann. 

With thoughts a mile a minute, he barely hears his phone beeping on his passenger seat when he gets back in to continue the drive, his own green mile. 

**_Hey man, have you heard from Bitty?_ **

Shitty. News spreads fast...

_No. Why?_

_**He’s just called Holster in a panic. They’re pretty worried about him. Apparently he’s kicked some kid off the team?** _

He decides its easier to call. As he hits a bad patch of traffic, his best friend’s voice sings around his car and he feels the anxiety notch up. Jack’s mental health scale is probably the only thing looking worse than the economy.

“ _I know you talk to him the most, Jack. Why would he get someone kicked off the team? That’s not like him. Bitty would sooner bake someone a pie to teach ‘em a lesson than do that,”_  Shitty wonders and Jack knows it’s now or never.

“Probably because the kid walked in on me kissing Bitty then tried to blackmail me,” Jack deadpans. It’s too late now. The only noise he can hear is the gentle hum of his traffic comrades’ engines all around him. It feels like companionship, it feels like support. Jack will take it where he can get it.

“ _Well at least we can finally talk about it,”_  Shitty says, in the end.

“What do you mean?” 

“ _You’ve always got some sort of pie or cake in your fridge and you’re not the type to hold onto a fan’s post-it declarations of love,”_ Shitty chuckles. “ _I’m in law school, Jack, m’not an idiot.”_

“Ok,” Jack responds. He decides not to bring up Shitty trying to get him to talk about his girlfriend in front of the others. Today he picks his battles. “So I’m on my way to tell my coach.”

There’s a tremor in his voice that he can’t force away. It matches the fingers tapping on the steering wheel and the knee bopping just shy of revving the engine and _why is he so weak?_  

“ _Jack?”_  Shitty asks. 

“Yes?”

“ _Call me later, ok?”_  he requests. “ _But call your boyfriend first, he’s clearly going out of his mind. I wouldn’t be surprised to find we have to buy him another oven with the amount of food he must be churning out to the team.”_

 _“_ I will,” Jack says with a flicker of a smile. “Thank you.”

With a click, Jack is alone again. The traffic is moving. Two down, one to go.

\---

Jack’s coach tells him he’s being ridiculous and of course he has a place on the team. He finds Tater in a changing room and finds himself winded by the huge clap on the back, and his ribs crushed by the resulting hug. 

“I knew it, Zimmboni. Eric is a good man, I like him a lot,” Tater grins. “He makes you happy, he makes you play better. Win, win!”

Gradually over the course of the day Jack tells the rest of his teammates and they’re mostly just relieved to finally settle the Betty vs Betsy argument. It’s not until he gets home and realises he’s spent the best part of a year panicking over what was essentially something very anti-climactic that he allows all the stress and concern from the morning explode from him in a stream of tears. He’s hyperventilating, his lungs feels like they’ve collapsed and he doesn’t even know where he heart is anymore. He hasn’t felt it beat since he left Bittle. 

He opens Skype on his tablet and finds Bittle waiting, always there for him. When the call connects he knows his eyes are red and his hair is a mess but the better part of him knows that his boyfriend won’t mind.

“There’s only one thing left, Bits,” Jack smiles, after he recounts the events of the day and the many conversations that littered it.

“Honey, I think the whole world knows by now,” Bittle laughs, wiping at his own face and finally relaxing. “I... I even told my mom. Figured I had to, really. Coach would have seen it in the sports news eventually.”

“How did she take it?” Jack wants to know now, he wants to know more than he cares about his own circumstances because once again he’s proven himself to be the worst boyfriend. He hadn’t even thought about how Bitty’s parents didn’t know. 

“She was fine, Jack,” Bittle smiles warmly. “She’s happy if I’m happy. She’s going to tell Coach, though.”

At some point, Jack is expecting there to be a catch. He occasionally reminds himself that it’s the 21st Century and people are supposedly more tolerant and accepting of what they don’t understand, but he has never allowed himself to be reassured by this. Every experience he has had during the day has been positive and welcoming, even knowing. If this is the way it was always going to be, why was there so much concern?

“So what’s left? You’ve told Shitty - was he brilliant about it? No, don’t answer. I know he was - you’ve spoken to your dad and you’ve told your team. My parents know and I’m sure the other guys on the team know by now,” Bitty recounts like it’s a shopping list, not their lives.

“The rest of the world,” Jack says quietly, suddenly very focused on the screen before him. This is when he will know what to do. This is where he gauges Bittle’s reactions. This has to be the catch.

Bittle stares back at the screen curiously, and cocks his head just so. He breathes once, twice, blinks a couple of times and then smiles. It breaks Jack’s heart and it fills him with more light than he could have comprehended from the minute that boy casually strolled into Bittle’s room, phone accidentally at the ready to capture evidence he didn’t even know he would find.

Bittle nods, and emits a tiny squeak of excitement. No, there’s no catch today. This wouldn't be possible without him.

It’s all over in a few taps on his phone, and a satisfied smirk as he sits back and catches Bittle’s eye through the camera. He waits. 3... 2... 1...

“Jack Zimmermann! You are the worst boyfriend in the world!” Bittle cries as he stares at his phone in shock. “How could you do this to me? Where did you even get that?”

It’s not the first time Jack’s thought that he’s a terrible boyfriend, it won’t be the last time he’s told. But it is the first time it doesn’t sting, doesn’t leave him withered and wrung out, distraught at how selfish he can be. For the first time Jack feels happy to be the worst boyfriend in the world, and he laughs and laughs until his eyes are streaming again. 

He places his phone face-up on the bed next to him while Bittle rants and raves, but ultimately laughs his way through his happiness. There’s a picture of Bittle he took the other day, while he was sleeping, on Twitter, with the caption “ _Love you, Eric Bittle_ ❤”. 

It’s the heart emoji that really sets Bittle off laughing for a second round.

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to write a little epilogue to this series, more about the media and Jack playing for the team after all this. I just wanted this one to be about his friends/family etc.


End file.
